


(in)compatibility

by blindmadness



Series: Crossover and AU Adventures [3]
Category: The Custard Protocol Series - Gail Carriger
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Gen, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 17:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10037102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blindmadness/pseuds/blindmadness
Summary: Percy Tunstell has no intention of drifting with Quesnel Lefoux, but it doesn't seem like he has a choice. (A Pacific Rim AU.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> A very niche pairing for a very niche fandom! :') But one that I strongly and deeply feel should exist in the world more. Hell, more of this fandom needs to exist in general. It's such glorious campy queer supernatual steampunk madness. 
> 
> I'm not confident enough in my grasp of Pacific Rim or these characters to write more of this, but like, I never say never to things like that (and who knows where books 3 and 4 will take us?). Title is a play on the Custard Protocol book titles, because I'm silly like that.

“No,” Percy says, and though his reaction is immediate and vehement, he thinks he deserves some credit for keeping his voice relatively neutral, not letting on how deeply and profoundly the idea horrifies him.

Rue rubs the bridge of her nose, looking impatient and irritated and frustratingly competent despite it. “I don’t like it any more than you do,” she says, and Percy snorts incredulously.

“I find that _very_ difficult to believe,” he says darkly. “I find it difficult to believe that anyone in the history of the world has ever liked an idea less than I like this one.”

Rue shoots him a severe look. After knowing her for more or less literally his entire life, Percy’s reasonably immune to them, but he has to admit that especially since she’s been promoted to marshal, they’ve gotten more and more impressive. “Percy,” she says, clearly aiming for a tone that’s more cajoling than castigating, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“Ideal?” he exclaims, snorting again. _“Ideal?_ I can’t think of anything _less_ ideal than having that pompous idiot in my head. I never wanted _anyone_ in my head, let alone him.”

“You’d be a good pilot,” Rue implores, her tone even more complimentary now. “You’re smart, analytical, quick on your feet. You’re good at compartmentalizing your emotions and you can make spur-of-the-moment choices to save lives. It’s a crime you were never interested.”

Percy shrugs. He’s not immune to the flattery, but he’s never seen the appeal of the jaegers in a practical sense. Behind the scenes, sure—he’s more than happy to do the research, to publish findings on cycles of kaiju or effectiveness of certain jaeger models or track improvements made to the equipment or strategies and see its outcomes. But actually piloting one? And doing so with Quesnel Lefoux, of all people?

“No,” Percy insists, and Rue huffs out a long, exasperated sigh, dropping all pretense or flattery or affection. (If he’s being honest, Percy likes her better this way; at least they can communicate.)

“Percy,” she says, in the brisk, unyielding tone of the youngest marshal the jaeger program has ever had, “how long have you known me?”

“Our entire lives,” Percy replies promptly, wondering if he might be able to extract some favoritism out of this situation.

Rue’s next words, though, shatter that pleasant illusion. “And how often, during our long and fruitful acquaintanceship, have you ever known me to change my mind or to back down when I’m set on a particular course?” 

Percy huffs a sigh of his own; he doesn’t like where this conversation is going. “Never,” he replies obediently, but he can’t help adding, “And the same could be said of me, you know.”

To his surprise, a resigned little smile slides across Rue’s face. “Yes,” she admits, “I do. I know you pretty well too, Percy, which is my point. Did you think that I believed for one second that you wouldn’t be reacting this way?”

Percy supposes not.

“And knowing that,” Rue continues, vindicated, “do you think that there’s even the slightest chance I would have suggested this to you if I had any other potential course of action in mind—any other plan that I thought had even the faintest possibility of working?”

“Yes,” Percy replies promptly, and under Rue’s glare continues, unruffled, “I think you’d exhaust every possibility at your disposal before you let yourself grow desperate enough to rely on only one. But,” he’s compelled to add, in the interest of fairness, “I do know that for you to resort to even considering this one enough to talk to me about it, you must be getting pretty close to that point.”

Rue nods. “And knowing that,” she says, actually sounding a little weary—something Percy didn’t think was possible—“would you at least consider the possibility?”

Consider it? Consider drifting with Quesnel Lefoux—opening his mind in the least controlled way imaginable to his rival, the man who’s always been at his throat personally as well as professionally, with whom he’s fought over publications and grants and equipment and even women? Allow him to see all of Percy’s innermost thoughts and feelings—his ideas for future research, his love for his family, the secret fondness he hides for fruit tarts and children’s adventure novels, his reluctant admiration of Quesnel’s work, both academic and mechanical, his slowly dawning realization that in the most recent instance of Quesnel dating one of his exes, it was actually the woman in question that he was jealous of?

“All right,” Percy says, already knowing he’s going to regret this. “I’ll consider it.”


End file.
